


Frontwards

by retts



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Esca Loves To Top, Jealousy, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Rimming, Wall Sex, Way Too Many Kinks In a Single Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retts/pseuds/retts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Oh darling,” Esca said tenderly and kissed Marcus’s chin. “You must get me wet for we have no oil.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Esca fucks Marcus against a wall. The End.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frontwards

**Author's Note:**

> i don't understand how my first canon fic in this fandom is porn without plot that took me nearly three hours to write. damn. anyway, whatever.
> 
> written for a prompt from the kink meme.

The moon was a fat, brilliant sphere on its highest reach by the time Esca and Marcus left the tavern. Their arms were flung on the other’s shoulder to support and be supported. Esca, especially, was unsteady on his legs and his cheeks bloomed with colour. 

“Perhaps I’ve drunk too much,” Esca said as they made their way in the dark, empty alley. His foot caught on a jutting rock and he cursed in his native tongue. 

“It is because you are so small, my friend,” Marcus said with a soft laugh. “The firewater has gone to your head and turned your legs into water. You are as shaky as I am when my leg troubles me.” 

“Hmph,” Esca muttered, but his fingers found the knob on Marcus’s shoulder and gave it a small caress, for drunk as he was, he was not so far gone that he could not appreciate the lightness in which Marcus referred to his leg. 

There was a smile on Marcus’s face and it was made even more handsome in the light of the moon. His brow was wide and his nose was long. Marcus’s lips looked even prettier in such light and Esca’s fingers trailed up the side of Marcus’s neck to tangle in his hair that had grown a bit longer in their stay in Calleva. Marcus sighed at the touch. 

Here, in the quiet of the night, the time of their hunting seemed an age ago. Here, with Marcus’s head angled just so, he looked proud and capable and desirable. Esca’s mind cast back to the events of the evening and easily recalled the covetous look on the faces of the serving girls, how they eagerly came at Marcus’s call and lingered long after they had delivered the drinks. It excited Esca to know that Marcus was wanted by others, that they would eagerly put their hands on what was Esca’s, even as the knowledge filled him with jealousy. It was a queer rush of emotions and yet his phallus did not care for it stiffened in his breeches. 

“It’s a long walk back to the villa,” Marcus said in ignorance of Esca’s sudden plight. He turned to Esca and his eyes widened. The bump in his throat moved noticeably as he swallowed. “Esca! That -- you should not show such a face in public. It’s not decent.”

“Then I’m glad, because I am not feeling particularly decent at the moment.” Esca licked his lips. “Also, have you not noticed that we are alone in this wretched road?” He slid his other arm round Marcus’s shoulder and did not care much that he had to rise on his tiptoes to kiss the other man’s soft, pretty mouth. Marcus exhaled sharply and big hands gripped tight at Esca’s waist. Esca rubbed his groin against Marcus’s leg. “Marcus, do you not want me?” 

“ _Esca_.” His name was a tortured gasp. “Always, always, but we cannot -- it is improper and I -- ”

“Oh shush,” Esca said impatiently and went back down on his feet. He was not surrendering, however. He moved forward, pushing Marcus back with every step, and there was a battle going on in Marcus’s head that was visible on his face. Esca could see, even as they left the light of the moon and stumbled into the shadows of a house, that Marcus was as much aroused as he; already he could feel the thickening of Marcus’s phallus against his stomach. 

Marcus held himself rigidly, still uncertain, and Esca slipped both hands under Marcus’s tunic. His skin was hot and the muscles on his stomach tightened as Esca’s fingertips traced the ridges and hollows, and then dipped a thumb into the sweet bellybutton in the middle. 

“I have not touched you all day,” Esca told him, as much complaint as it was longing, and nuzzled into the side of Marcus’s neck. His tongue came out and licked at the sweat gathering in the hollow at the base of Marcus’s throat; felt and heard the rumble of pleasure as Marcus tipped his head back. “And I have had to endure watching those wenches come at you with their eyes and smiles and easy attitude.” The very thought alone made Esca growl and sink his teeth around a sharp collarbone. “You know how fierce I am over what is mine.” 

“Yes, I am aware,” Marcus rasped out, surrender now written in the slow, circling motions made by his thumbs on Esca’s hips, sending hot sparks up Esca’s spine and in the heaviness between his legs. Marcus bent his head and nosed at Esca’s temple, his panting breath stirring the fair hair. Marcus mouthed down to where Esca tilted his chin up, mouth already open and tongue hungry. They kissed like the clashing of swords to mirror the near violent desire curling in their rutting bodies. 

Esca rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and Marcus groaned into his mouth, sucked on Esca’s wriggling tongue. 

“Please,” Marcus whispered, and his eyes were very dark when they pulled apart to breathe. “Please, Esca.” 

The supplication made Esca wild and he could scarce hear nothing else but the racing of his heart. His phallus was so hard it felt almost painful. Esca’s beautiful and prim Roman, pinned to the wall and begging with his eyes and mouth. It made him ache in more places than just his groin. 

“Oh darling,” Esca said tenderly and kissed Marcus’s chin. “You must get me wet for we have no oil.”

Eagerly now did Marcus obey, going down on his knees with no thought for the uneven ground. Esca let flow a shaky breath, combing his fingers through dark hair as Marcus undid the lacings on his breeches and drew his phallus out. The touch of both hand and mouth on him nearly unravelled Esca. Fleetingly, Esca remembered how Marcus had first balked at this intimacy during their first days together; how Esca had enjoyed teaching Marcus that the act could be lovely and rewarding; how the pupil became as apt as the tutor. 

There was little skill in this instance, however, with Marcus more eager for coupling than the stuffing of his mouth. So, too, Esca thought of Marcus’s lame leg in such a position, and his fingers gently brushed the fringe from Marcus’s forehead before cupping his jaw and easing him off -- though how Esca’s phallus protested at the loss. 

“I am wet enough,” Esca said in a voice grown hoarse and needy, and manoeuvered Marcus until he was on his feet once more but facing the wall, bent at the waste and his palms flat on the stone. “Here, like this, for you are so large that I cannot lift you, Marcus. Oh, Marcus.” Esca pulled up the back of Marcus’s tunic and traced his tongue down the line of his spine, down to the curve of his buttocks, down and deeper in that place with its puckered little hole. He grasped at Marcus’s cheeks and separated them so Esca could fit his mouth better over the hole, bathe it in his saliva. 

Marcus made a choking noise. “Esca!” he cried in shock and lust, the name tumbling in the dark that cradled them. 

Esca bit down on a buttock and said in warning, “Shush, Marcus, or else we will have more eyes watching than you would like.” 

Marcus’s breath hitched and he glanced over his shoulder. “And -- ” Marcus licked his swollen mouth and tilted his buttocks when Esca gripped his phallus to guide it home, “ -- you would like it, Esca, if -- ah gods, ah -- there are many eyes observing us right now.” 

The idea sent fire through Esca’s being and his hips thrust in deeply, burying his phallus inside of Marcus, who groaned and rested his forehead on the wall, hands scrabbling for purchase but finding none. “To have eyes to witness this,” Esca muttered heatedly and leant close to drag lips and teeth on the nape revealed to him. “To see you laid so wholly bare to me, and covet what is mine -- ah, Marcus, it -- it makes me mad to think on it.” 

There would be bruises on Marcus’s hips by morning, so hard did Esca grip them. Esca snapped his hips, using the power in his legs: up then away, up then away. There were no more words, just the muted sounds of their pleasure -- Marcus with his own hand over his mouth and Esca with his lips on Marcus’s skin. 

A sharp coil of pleasure made it difficult to take in breath. Esca panted wetly on Marcus’s neck, dampening the collar of his tunic. One hand travelled round Marcus’s torso to spread over his heart and felt the gallop of it, echoing the beat of Esca’s own. Esca’s world was reduced to where his phallus was captured in heat, in tightness, and to the thrumming of their hearts. He would have dearly loved to hear the sounds Marcus would otherwise let loose in the privacy of their bedroom; Esca had to content himself with listening to the slick noises of their bodies connecting and separating. 

Then there came a tightness deep in his gut as the sensations reached a peak, condensed, and burst. It was nearly intolerable, stealing all the breath and thought in Esca, until finally he came back to himself whilst a drugging sweetness spread all through him. 

But Marcus was still stiff and he removed his hand to beg, “Esca, Esca, oh Esca, I need -- ”

Esca fell to his knees, willing to give Marcus anything he needed, and curled his sweaty hand round Marcus’s phallus. It jumped and wept in his grip. Marcus’s body shuddered and arched. Esca lazily licked at the scar on Marcus’s thigh and inserted two fingers into his anus, so very wet with the proof of Esca’s pleasure. 

“Oh, oh,” Marcus gasped wondrously and he tipped his head back, mouth open, as he spilled all over Esca’s fingers. Esca smiled into Marcus’s trembling thigh. 

After a moment, Esca pulled himself to his feet and helped Marcus to lean his back on the wall. Now and then a tremor would go through their bodies. A deep, heavy sigh passed from Marcus’s lips. 

“Are you well?” Esca asked softly because his voice could go no louder. Lassitude dragged at his limbs as he righted his breeches, then Marcus’s own; the cloths were blessedly dry, spared from their fluids. He wiped his sticky hand on his tunic and then with his other, cleaner hand reached for Marcus’s flushed cheek. “I was not as gentle as I could be.” 

Marcus turned his head enough to press a kiss on the curve of Esca’s palm. “I am well, truly. Only -- ” 

Esca’s heart was glad. “What is it?” 

A smile that was intriguing in its blend of shyness and satisfaction curled the corners of Marcus’s mouth. “It is only,” he said in all seriousness, though there was a glint in his eye, “I cannot seem to move and by the looks of it, neither can you. However are we to get home in such a state?” 

 

_fin_


End file.
